chapter 08 : The Three Scoundrels

After chaos ensued between Marsha and Abdeljalil, whose dark truth was revealed, the curtain lifted on his sinister origin tied to an ancient term known as "The Halal Curse," a name bestowed upon him by our ancestors, just like Ali Pasha. But will he follow in his great-grandfather's footsteps, or will he listen to his dead heart and let it guide him to safety, sparing him the same fate that befell Ali Pasha—the rare jewel lost in the harsh ocean of life, akin to the one we live in now, plagued by poverty and deprivation that consumes most of us, and the sorrow we've grown accustomed to under the constant trials that rain upon us daily until we meet our Creator?

Yet, there are those who lost patience and chose a shortcut out of this test, seeking temporary relief to indulge in fleeting pleasures, only to be slowly led back to Mother Nature, from which we were created and to which we shall return.

Let's set aside this dark philosophy and boring lecture because recent events have altered the course of Abdeljalil's story. His only crime was seeking someone who would love him and cherish the kind soul he possesses—a destiny that might lead him to a girl betrayed by life and her father's mistake. But a pure love waits from afar, biding its time to pounce on my heart. Who will win it? A mysterious lover or a hidden, veiled love?

What happened to me, with Suleiman Agha, and with my neighbor Christina, who is on her way toward me? Not to mention the girl with the black eyes and captivating body that ignited love and desire within me. I'm seeking the perfect moment to confess my sincere feelings, feelings born from a heart that died while I was still in my mother's womb, despite never having seen her—or my father, who was like a postman I saw once a week. But I am not weak enough to cry over ruins.

A strange feeling overcame me, a sense that something inside me was trying to break free. Then the dormant volcano erupted.

I am Abdeljalil, the son of Skikda, the grandson of the martyr Zighoud, hailing from the land that brought mighty nations to their knees.

"What happened to you? For heaven's sake, why are you screaming?"

A strange and unfamiliar tone came from me.

"It's none of your business. I will no longer be weak, nor will I be a victim of society. Anyone who dares mess with me should remember—I am Yazur Yatürk."

The ground shook beneath Suleiman's feet. His face turned pale, and fear was evident in his eyes, forcing him to step back several paces, staring into my red eyes, which resembled those of a crocodile.

"What's happening to me? What's happening to Abdeljalil?"

"Abdeljalil, are you okay? Why are your eyes red?"

"Abdeljalil no longer exists. I am now in control from this moment onward. Do you have a problem with that, you cursed Ottoman?"

"You traitor! How could you pass information to the French ambassador about the Algerian fleet being destroyed in the Battle of Navarino?"

Sobbing loudly, tears turned red as Suleiman struggled to speak, as if he had been stabbed by someone he thought of as a brother he never had.

"You've hurt me, Abdeljalil. I never expected this from you. Did Cyrus tell you about my betrayal?"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm no weak human? I am Yazur Yatürk, the Merchant of Death. I am the one who saved humanity from a dark fate."

In shock and disbelief, Suleiman stared at Abdeljalil, who had completely changed. Suddenly, large fangs emerged from my now-enlarged mouth, my skin turned brown and thick with hair, and then, without warning, I reverted to my normal form. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked sorrowfully at Suleiman Agha and spoke in a mournful tone.

"Suleiman, my brother, save me, please."

"Shut your mouth! I won't make the same mistake I made with your grandfather. Remember that well."

These were the words Yazur Yatürk uttered as he transformed into the form known to humans, though it was not his true appearance. His form is one of the secrets of humanity, without answer or explanation. It seems I have lost myself and my only love, all while listening to this strange being who appeared out of nowhere to speak with Suleiman.

Yazur Yatürk:

"Human, you know the primary law of Yazur."

Wiping his tears, Suleiman responded in a sorrowful tone:

"Of course, my lord. It's respect."

He then slowly bowed his head without lifting it, despite the many questions racing through his mind. What's happening? How did Yazur appear so suddenly? Who released him from exile?

A few minutes passed before he carefully raised his head and spoke in a calm tone without raising his voice, knowing full well who the Merchant of Death is and what he is capable of.

"If I may ask, my lord, how did you escape the Isle of Untamed Leopards?"

With calm and confidence, Yazur Yatürk pulled down my shirt slightly, revealing a medium-sized golden amulet shaped like a screaming skull, adorned with three medium-sized gemstones—red, black, and yellow—set in its eyes and mouth. He spoke:

"With my sacred amulet..."

Suleiman Agha stammered, unable to find the right words to explain what had just happened. Even fortune-tellers couldn't predict this. Yes, dear reader, Yazur Yatürk escaped his exile. But why? What is his next goal? We'll discuss that in the new part of Lords of the Earth.

For now, we'll focus on understanding how Yazur Yatürk took control of my body. I can clearly see the psychological turmoil gripping my friend Suleiman, who hasn't fully processed what's happening yet. He muttered:

"How? He wasn't wearing it before. He was beside me the whole time. Who brought it from that island?"

There was no reply or answer, only a sinister, wicked smile. Then someone spoke:

"I did. I…"

Another voice followed:

"And so did I…"

Finally, a third voice concluded:

"What about me? I was with you too."

In utter confusion and unparalleled astonishment, Suleiman looked around but saw nothing except Yazur and a dense forest covering the sky with towering trees resembling skyscrapers, green grass, and a river of blood flowing through the forest—a place where one wouldn't want to relax or spend leisure time.

It was the home of one of the Ten Ancient Beings that Cyrus mentioned earlier. We'll leave that topic for later.

Suleiman Agha:

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

Suddenly, three creatures with translucent white forms resembling ghosts appeared, surrounding Yazur from all sides as they spoke:

Spark:

"I am called Spark."

Kiros:

"And I am Kiros."

Marco:

"And I, the most handsome, am Marco at your service."

All Together:

"We are the Three Scoundrels."

Suleiman Agha:

"How is this possible? I monitored his every step. I didn't even see you around him!"

At that moment, Yazur Yatürk spoke:

"Because I used one of my abilities to blind you to them. Return to your master and tell him that Yazur Yatürk has returned and will handle the matter."

Suleiman Agha:

"But, my lord…"

Yazur Yatürk:

"Don't worry. As long as he wears this amulet, nothing will happen to him. Besides, I have the Three Scoundrels with me. Your friend is fine—go back to him."

Suleiman Agha:

"Understood, my lord."

Yazur Yatürk:

"Suleiman, one last thing: tell Cyrus that Yazur says, 'See you in Mortos' Great Pit.' He'll understand."

In an unusual manner unfamiliar to humans, a magical portal opened out of nowhere for Suleiman to enter before closing swiftly. Yazur and the Three Scoundrels then set off toward the Kingdom of Bogars.

Yazur Yatürk:

"Morpheus, I'm coming. The Book of Death won't save you this time."